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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219896">When Aunt Mary Came to Visit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoS/pseuds/ZoS'>ZoS</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Devil Wears Prada (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crack, Domestic, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Light Smut, Marijuana, No actually this is about weed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:53:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219896</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoS/pseuds/ZoS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy and Miranda try something new together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>168</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When Aunt Mary Came to Visit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the stupidest thing I've ever written, lmao, enjoy.</p><p>On a sadder (?) note, tomorrow I'm finally going back to work (I got a promotion, yay!), which means that this daily posting streak I've been keeping up is going to be broken. But rest assured, I'm still writing and will post whenever time and energy permit!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Hi," Andy called into the empty foyer, announcing her presence.</p><p>From the den, she heard a murmured "Hello."</p><p>Dropping her satchel, she excitedly followed the direction of the voice, grinning at Miranda when she came to a stop in the den. In her chair, Miranda was sitting cross-legged with a magazine that wasn't <em>Runway</em> in her lap, already showered and changed out of her work clothes and probably waiting for the Book's imminent arrival. "How was work?" she inquired casually, flipping a page.</p><p>"Awesome. I went to a crack den," Andy replied and the way Miranda's head promptly snapped up was almost comical.</p><p>"You what?"</p><p>"Oh, relax, it was all part of a research." Andy waved a dismissive hand in the air and seated herself on the arm of Miranda's chair. "I didn't even know I was gonna end up there, but everyone ended up being really nice. I think it was because of my shirt." Looking down as if she'd never seen her own assets before, she tugged at the fabric at her bosom, where one too many buttons had been left undone to reveal the cleavage that had always been both a blessing and a curse. Miranda's gaze, unintentionally, was drawn to the breasts in question as well, and lingered.</p><p>"Anyway, back to the main point: Pooky really liked me and--"</p><p>"<em>Pooky?</em>"</p><p>"One of the guys," Andy explained flippantly, impatient to cut to the chase, then reached into her jeans pocket with a cospiratorial smirk. "And he gave me... this." With gleaming eyes, she extracted an expertly rolled piece of brown paper, narrow at one end and expanding up to a tightly furled tip, and presented it to Miranda, her smirk broadening.</p><p>Wide-eyed, Miranda demanded, "What is that?"</p><p>"You've never seen a joint before?" Andy asked incredulously.</p><p>"I have," she answered curtly, giving Andy the old "don't be an idiot" look. "But why do you have it?"</p><p>"Well... I thought we could... you know..." Andy trailed off and gestured between their bodies.</p><p>Eyes growing further in size, Miranda decreed, "You are not smoking that in my house." It was always <em>her</em> house when Andy wanted to redecorate the living room or hated the tiles in the bathroom or took a hammer to the wall; not so much when the dishwasher had to be loaded on the housekeeper's day off or the trash had to be taken out. On a good day, Andy could laugh about it.</p><p>"Why not? It's legal. And it's not gonna hurt me."</p><p>"I don't care if it kills you; this thing will stink up the whole house," she said and got up, dropping her magazine on the coffee table--Andy could see now that it was <em>Dwell</em>. Ironic.</p><p>"Oh, come on, don't be like that," she pleaded, turning to face her departing form with her best impression of puppy dog eyes. "Pleeease?"</p><p>"I'm not your mother," Miranda stated, a fact she made sure to emphasize at least once a week, especially after learning, years prior, how close in age she was to Andy's actual mother. Andy found the humor in that even more easily. "Do whatever you want, just not here. Go outside if you must."</p><p>"But I thought we would... together, you know?"</p><p>"I'm not twenty-two anymore." Miranda smiled, leaning down to place the "hello" kiss she hadn't given Andy yet on her lips. Then she tapped her cheek a couple of times. "I'll be in my study."</p><p>Slumping in her seat, Andy pouted, listening to the decreasing sound of her footsteps.</p><p>*</p><p>Sliding open the door to the backyard, Miranda found Andrea slouched on the wicker sofa, her hand hanging limply off the edge, a three-quarter-finished joint held sloppily between her index and middle fingers, its burnt end disintegrating ashes onto the brick ground below.</p><p>"Have you managed to make a fool of yourself yet?" she questioned, coming to join her on the couch.</p><p>Languidly lifting her head, Andrea directed an unfocused gaze at her, smiling lazily. "Heeey." Holding out the joint, she wordlessly offered it to Miranda, who waved her hand in refusal. "We need an ashtray."</p><p>Raising an eyebrow, Miranda asked, "Are you planning on making this a habit?"</p><p>"No, no. This is barely affecting me. I don't think it's very strong," Andrea said, reclining back against the arm of the sofa, lifting her leg to stroke Miranda's arm with her foot. Miranda grabbed the leg and placed it back on the cushion.</p><p>"Your eyes are red," she stated.</p><p>"Are they?" Andrea jolted back up, touching them with her free hand. Then her lips stretched into a dopey grin and she merely said, "Oh," and laughed. "You're really pretty, you know?" she said sweetly, scooting closer to Miranda.</p><p>"And you're baked."</p><p>In lieu of a response, Andrea brought the joint to her lips, inhaled, and promptly proceeded to lean over the edge of the couch and cough wretchedly.</p><p>"You are a child," Miranda commented lightly, but found herself to be thoroughly amused as she watched her partner press a hand to her chest, trying and failing to keep another bout of coughing inside.</p><p>"No, it's just," Andrea croaked, choking, "it's been a while..." She coughed again. "Since college..."</p><p>"Mhm." Miranda nodded, pursing her lips to disguise a smirk, and plucked the joint from Andrea's flaccid fingers.</p><p>"Oh," Andrea wheezed when she wrapped her lips around the edge, "you should probably take it easy with..." and trailed off at the long, smooth drag Miranda pulled into her lungs, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates, jaw sagging involuntarily.</p><p>Leaning her head back against the cushion, Miranda held the smoke in her mouth for several moments before parting her lips to slowly blow it back out. "You've done this before," Andrea accused in astonishment.</p><p>"Of course I have," she replied, handing the joint back. "I was in the fashion industry in the '80s. This was the least of it."</p><p>"Really?" Andrea grinned with piqued interest. "What else did you do?"</p><p>"Mm," Miranda hummed, situating herself more comfortably against the cushions. "I can tell you what Nigel did."</p><p>"Aww." Andrea frowned. "You're no fun."</p><p>"Yes, I'm well-known for my fun and easy-going nature," she deadpanned. That elicited a hearty giggle from her companion, who was distracted enough to let her reclaim posession of the joint and inhale its smoke once more.</p><p>"Come here," she said after depositing the item on the table before them and after Andrea's laughter had ceased, and proceeded to pull her close by the waist.</p><p>Wrapping her legs behind Miranda's back and her arms around her neck, Andrea closed the distance with a kiss that started off sweet and chaste, but gradually deepened. Grabbing her jaw, Miranda tilted her pliant head back to assert control, and licked her way through the bitter taste of weed on Andrea's lips and into her mouth.</p><p>"The girls?" Andrea mumbled into the kiss, nevertheless already lowering her hand to the hem of Miranda's shirt.</p><p>Detaching from her lips to nuzzle her neck instead, Miranda pointed out, "Have you ever seen them leave their rooms?" and immediately latched onto the warm skin she found.</p><p>"Fair point," sighed Andrea and leaned back to lie down, bringing Miranda with her. Spreading her legs, she moaned uninhibitedly as Miranda licked and nibbled everywhere, not leaving a piece of skin untouched before she returned to Andrea's lips, feeling her arch beneath her, the hard button and zipper of her jeans digging into her stomach.</p><p>That had to be taken care of, and reaching between them, she opened the pants to allow her hand access inside, causing Andrea to undulate again and pant. "God," she whispered, "I'm wet."</p><p>And she was. Without so much as foreplay, she was ready for Miranda to fuck her, relaxing into the rhythm Miranda set and for once letting her do most of the work while making shameless sounds that Miranda had to muffle with her own mouth.</p><p>With a heavy sigh, Andrea sank into the couch while Miranda removed her fingers from inside her. Grinning wickedly, she brought them up to Andrea's lips and rubbed back and forth until Andrea forced her eyes open and greedily licked them clean.</p><p>"I'm starving," she claimed when she was done, which was when Miranda realized that she was, too, the sudden craving for something to snack on far greater than the need to get her own release.</p><p>"We can order in."</p><p>Andrea's eyes sparkled in turn, but not at her suggestion. "Let's make brownies," she proposed excitedly. Miranda, curiously, couldn't think of a better idea.</p><p>Somewhere down the line, she thought, the marijuana must have started taking effect because all of a sudden the running water in the faucet was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen, and chocolate batter had never tasted so good on her fingers, and her kitchen seemed much larger than usual.</p><p>"Do you hear that?" Andrea asked dreamily. "Music." Now that she'd mentioned it, Miranda, in fact, did. The sight of Andrea dancing caused a tingling sensation in the tips of her fingers and toes, the rhythm in her head compelling her body to move along.</p><p>Everything was funny, everything was beautiful. Why didn't she do drugs more often?</p><p>"Wear this," she murmured, carefully positioning a sparkly hat on Andrea's head. The corners of Andrea's mouth were smeared with drying chocolate. "I always tell you you have a head for hats. You never listen to me."</p><p>Andrea was too far gone to respond, muttering nonsensical observations about fashion and relationships and the universe, but it was a good thing Miranda could always maintain enough control to break through the influence of any substance, because otherwise they really might have made fools of themselves.</p><p>"What are you doing?" a stern voice startled the pair out of their deep concentration on the task of fitting the chocolate-filled sheet pan into the oven. Simultaneously jumping around, a sparkling stainless steel pot fell off of Andrea's head and Miranda's leg bumped against the oven's door as they came face to face with a judgemental redhead.</p><p>Eyes wide, Miranda pressed her lips into a tight line, frantically rummaging around in her brain for the function that normally made her face look inscrutable and <em>not</em> high. At her side, Andrea explained in slow motion, "We're baking brownies." Had her speech always been so slow?</p><p>The teenager, suddenly taller and closer than she'd been a moment ago, lifted an eyebrow impossibly high. "In the dishwasher?"</p><p>*</p><p>"Do the two of you know how incredibly irresponsible you've been?" admonished one girl, her identical twin nodding in agreement, both towering over the adults sitting at the kitchen table like chastised kids. Horrified, Miranda couldn't differentiate between her actual kids.</p><p>"What if we'd found the drugs?" the other girl said. "We're teenagers. We're <em>so</em> impressionable."</p><p>"So impressionable," her sister concured.</p><p>Fidgeting in her seat, Andy tried with all her might to stifle a laugh.</p><p>"This is a terrible example you're setting." One of them pointed an accusing finger, but it was so blurry it looked as if three additional fingers had sprouted from it. Miranda repeatedly squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them in a vain attempt to focus her vision.</p><p>"You're never allowed to talk to me about the dangers of drugs and alcohol again."</p><p>"And I get to go to Colin's party on Friday."</p><p>"Now you should both go to your room and think about what you've done," said one of them and paused when the other whispered in her ear. Nodding, she added, "But not before you finish baking those brownies."</p><p>"And giving them to us," her twin finished.</p><p>Leaving a mortified Miranda and a giggling Andy behind, Caroline and Cassidy made their way back to their rooms.</p><p>"What about the weed?" whispered Caroline. "Should we have..."</p><p>"Don't worry, I have some in my room," replied Cassidy.</p><p>"Cool."</p>
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